“I see that.”
“I’m not joking, Sara.”
“I know,” I replied, gulping down another shot of whiskey, a desperate attempt to calm my rattled nerves and the attraction I’d felt spark when he’d defended me.
6
Sara
Autumn slipped into winter, and from the kitchen window, my eyes scanned the bare trees that lined the back of the property. The once lively forest, no longer buzzing with life, was a brutal reflection of my own barren life. As winter broke and the snows started to fall, friends started to distance themselves, and sometimes days would pass before I saw another living person that wasn’t Harvey.
I wrapped my hands around my steaming mug, indulging in its heat. I had the radio on in the background, the constant chatter a small comfort. Otherwise the house was too still, the emptiness only encouraging my overactive imagination.
Once upon a time, Eric and I dreamed of having a family of our own. The loud noises of our children’s giggles and antics would fill each room; loud footsteps would thump against the floor. Now every aspect of that life had vanished into thin air. And a part of me was glad. God only knows how Eric would’ve treated our imaginary kids if they pissed him off.
I also tried to look to my future, but I couldn’t see myself starting again with another man, going down the same path I’d already trodden, even though I longed for a baby. What if he turned out just like Eric? Sweet, loving and caring for the duration of our engagement, but then the mask came off as soon as we were behind closed doors, and I had a ring on my finger. What if it was me that brought the worst out of them? What if I was the common denominator?
I needn’t have worried about it all, anyway. It was too soon, and it wasn’t as if I was a catch or anything, dressed in my flannel PJs, shuffling from room to room like a lost zombie. I knew I needed to brave the outside world once again, but why bother when it was safer to wrap myself up within this house? No one could hurt me here. At least not anymore.
The vibration of the phone startled me. I swung my short legs off the window seat and reached for the device on the table, if only to make the noise stop.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Could I speak with Mrs Chambers, please?” a monotone voice asked on the other end of the line.
“Speaking.”
“Hi, my name is Alice from Bluelife Insurance.”
I closed my eyes and wondered why she was calling. I hoped that finally the life policy that my husband had taken out would be paid up. I knew our savings were dwindling, and it wouldn’t be too long before they ran out. “Oh, hi. I’ve been expecting to receive a payment, but I’ve not received anything yet.”
“I’m afraid there’s been an unexpected development.”
My eyes widened. “What do you mean?” I stammered as I leaned against the wall, my legs threatening to give out. “Is there a problem with the pay-out? I know we were all up to date with the monthly payments.”
“Oh, it’s nothing to do with that.” The lady paused. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but we felt it better that we call to let you know. The report of the investigation into your husband’s passing concludes that the accident was a result of intentional actions.”
“You mean like someone interfered with the car?
“No. The car was found to be in perfectly good working order, and witness statements say that the car just went off the road and—”
“Stop. Just tell me what you’re trying to say. You think Eric killed himself?”
I felt my world shake beneath my feet. My head spun from the woman’s words.
“That’s not possible,” I whispered, thinking back to that morning. His actions were not of a suicidal man, far from it. “Eric didn’t kill himself. It was an accident.”
Alice sighed. “During Mr Chambers’ autopsy, there were trace elements of Zoloft in his system,an anti-depressant. Consequently, the investigators suspect that the incident was deliberate, and therefore the life insurance policy will not be paid out.”
The accident was deliberate.
Eric killed himself.
Those words ran through my mind, clouding every logical thought as I leaned my head back against the wall. It didn’t make any sense. Why would he do it? Had Eric suddenly grown a conscience and regretted taking me against me will all those times? I couldn’t breathe. Breathing seemed to be the hardest thing to do at that moment.
When the lady said her goodbyes and hung up, I slid down to the floor. My chest heaved with short intakes of breath. Beads of cold sweat broke out the side of my forehead.
“Eric,” I said to the empty room, “what the fuck did you do?”